"Residing among the disgusting daytime flowers"

                        I reside among the disgusting daytime flowers,  assembling sultry beds, of innocent faces amid frail noon time clatter. Sweat embalms the translucent Pacific. Tales of mystic troubadours that sailed horrific rifts, and tattered peninsulas along desolate shoreline cliffs.
                       Primitive talk of tongues in peasant townships, masquerading civilian chambermaids that weave unmerciful requests, regarding recent pedestrian upheaval, stir silently naked between building foundations. Dirt and grit surfaces down sordid alleyways, tell-tale merchants frayed and delivered. Bedbugs fester upstairs along narrow corridors. Merciful in unraveling doorways, the landlord innkeeper squatted, out through pale afternoon vestibules the toad-toed undertaker smiled at naive adolescent schoolchildren in the hearth of their teachings.
                      In rotted sun dooryards, we solely exist. Our souls lay invulnerably below descending skylines. Mouths feeding, spit treacherous tokens of immeasurable folly and multitudinous servitude. Words intertwined through common misused dialect, Vagabonds wail upon moonlit trenches  "the babes haf' gon'!, by god!, the babes haf' gon' now!"  Putrid in sweltering Summer heat, used blood transfusions in aching perimeters. Nude pools of flesh come beating down in prevalent measures. Pioneered, and inevitable.  Embedded soil rupturing, pale soles together in climatic chivalry.
                     Child corpses lay piled upon the midnight terrace, blanketed in haunting undertones, insidious decades of depraved architecture. City boundaries lie restless tonight, recklessly anonymous approaching placid evening. Coffee shops, nick-knack-nooks, and cigar crannies. Renovated bowling alleys and vacant hospital beds. Beige white sheets align boarded cinema windows. Along ancient basement floorboards our souls malinger, then shrivel drearily,  along with our bodies.